The Crimson Hawke
by ElspethRTirel
Summary: In a modern Kirkwall, Fenris is the head of security for the club, The Crimson Hawke owned by Garrett Hawke. Christina is a retiring thief, who gets caught breaking into the vault of the club. What happens when Fenris catches her? What happens when she is given a job and she ends up living with him? What is he going to do about her? And why does he want to protect her?
1. Chapter 1

**"Hi everyone, my name is Elspeth Tirel. This is my first fan fiction and I would appreciate any reviews both good and bad. If there happens to be any grammar mistakes, please feel free to tell me. **

"**I love Dragon Age, it happens to be my most beloved video game series, ever. I am also a Fenris fan girl, if you don't already know; there is just something about that broody attitude of his that I absolutely love. **

"*****DISCLAIMER*** I do not own anything associating Dragon Age, this includes Fenris sadly, all rights go to the great people at Bioware. I do however own the OC and the plot/wording.**

"**Alright, I'll just let you read now. Enjoy."**

That was it, she was completely broke. Christina Da'Artone had spent the last of her coin on a dress and she hoped it was worth it. This dress held her last hope for the life she had always dreamed for herself. After tonight, she would finally have enough money to leave Kirkwall and move to Antiva or maybe Orlais.

She was tired of a life of crime. She had been raised as a thief and that was what she was. All her life, she had been pick-pocketing, breaking into houses and running from the guards, well no more. Tonight, she was going to The Crimson Hawke, a night club that was well-known in Kirkwall. It was said to be had to get into, but that's what she had bought this dress for.

Christina looked at herself in the mirror and she was pleased with her appearance. The dress's bodice was dark-blue satin, strapless and body-hugging. Beneath it was a short, sassy bubble skirt of black satin. She had curled her long dark brown hair and left it to fall around her lightly tanned shoulders. Her big hazel eyes were lined with black eyeliner, her high cheekbones were faintly blushed and her full lips were painted red.

Any doorkeeper, who turned her away at the door, was an idiot.

After she grabbed her purse and checked over her makeup one last time, she left the hotel room and took the next train to the Red Light District.

The streets were full of people, groups of friends all looking for excitement and merchants each selling and announcing their wares to the passerby. The Neon signs flashed showcasing what entertainment each bar or club was hosting that night.

Christina walked through the vast crowd, towards where a large red neon sign read 'The Crimson Hawke'. Upon arriving at the club, she stood back and watched. There was a line of people waiting by door, their way blocked by a red rope and a lone man in a black suit was standing by the door. Fixing her skirt and making sure her breast showed a little over the top of the dress, she walked towards the entrance of the club.

The doorkeeper was a tall pale man with short cropped brown hair and gray eyes. Stepping closer, she flashed the man her sweetest smile and batted her eyes. The man seemed to measure her for a time, his eyes roaming over her. After a moment he opened the door and gestured her in.

The crowd began to complain and the man shot a menacing glare at them, immediately silencing them.

"Thank you," Christina said and made her way into the club.

The place was alive with sound of music and laughter. People were either dancing or sitting at the few tables with each other and at the bar a few patrons sat drinking. Colored lights flashed here and there, but otherwise the establishment dimly lit.

Christina made her way to the bar, as she passed by a drunken man, who was busy flirting with a young girl in a short dress; she reached into his pocket and stole his wallet. She had quickly taken all the money out of it, stuffed into her purse and discarded it onto the floor.

She walked up to the bar and glanced at the barkeep. He was an attractive man with blonde hair pulled into a small ponytail and the lower half of his face was shadowed with stubble.

"I'll take a fruit cocktail, please." She smiled.

"Of course," the man said and began to prepare the cocktail. He looked at her. "I've never seen you here before."

"Do you remember everyone you see here?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I try to keep a profile of everyone," He smiled at her as he passed her the cocktail, "and besides I would never forget a lovely woman such as you."

"I bet that charm of yours gets you many tips, huh?" She sipped her drink.

"It's been known too, my name's Anders."

"Emalia," She lied.

"So, tell me Emalia, why have I never seen you here before?"

"I've just arrived here in town, yesterday."

"And what made you come to The Hawke?"

"I heard it was a great place to go if you were looking for excitement."

"And you're looking for excitement?"

"Among other things," She smiled flirtatiously at him.

Anders opened his mouth to respond, but at the far end of the bar a man called out to him ordering a whiskey, and he quickly bustled off to get it. Christina took this moment to leave; she tossed back the rest of her cocktail, placed ten silvers onto the counter and merged back into the crowd. She went to the dance floor and mingled with a group of men and was soon caught up in the music and danced along. After sometime, the men offered to buy her a drink but she refused and excused herself to the bathroom.

Once in the restroom, away from noise and the swarm of people, she went to mirror and rummaged through her purse. She found a couple hair pins and placed them in her hair, using them to push her short bangs away from her face. After inspecting to make sure her makeup was still good, she left the room, just as couple of giggling girls entered.

Christina realized it was time to make her move and she weaved her way through the crowd, making her way towards the back of the club. She saw a door that was labeled 'Staff Personal Only' and that it was not being guarded. She neared the door and found that it was locked. After glancing around, making sure that nobody was watching, she took a pin out of her hair and fluently picked the lock.

She swiftly entered the room and shut the door behind her. With her back against it she found herself in a hallway, and she silently crept down it. She made her way to a door and, finding that it was unlocked, went creeping softly down the stairs, so that her heels wouldn't make a sound on the granite floor.

She reached the bottom and noticed two doors. If she remembered the blueprints of the club correctly, the door on the right led to the vault. She was not surprised to find that the door was locked and had already taken out the last pin in her hair, her bangs falling back onto her forehead. She bent at the waist and examined the lock. The lock was very complex and would be very hard pick by just any amateur, but she wasn't an amateur.

With the hairpin and the fingernail of her left hand, she quickly had the door opened. She grinned and stood to enter the room. Just then, a hand grabbed her shoulder and swung her around, smacking her head up against the wall. Her eyes closed from the pain and her heart began pounding. She had been caught.

She opened her eyes to see her captor and her eyes widened. There standing before her was an elf with white hair and emerald green eyes. He was about an inch taller than her, his olive skinned face had pale markings that ran from his chin and down into his tailor-made dark suit. Christina found that he was very handsome, handsome and furious.

"What are you doing here?" He asked in a deep rumbling voice.

"I," she stupidly smiled, "think it's pretty obvious what I'm doing."

"I can see what you are doing," He growled and tightened his grip on her shoulder, making her wince. "What I want to is why?"

"Why? Why does anyone ever steal, because they need the money?"

He narrowed his eyes, gripped her arm and began to drag her behind him up the stairs.

"Hey," She glared at him, "you don't have to be so rough, I'll come quietly." He didn't respond to her, only continued to pull her up the stairs. They ascended up to the third and last floor of the building; the elf opened the door and forcefully pushed her into the room, entering behind her. Christina glared at him, rubbing her arm, and contemplated how long it would be before it began to bruise.

She watched as he went up to a door and knocked. A few seconds later, a voice called out from behind the wooden frame and the elf opened it. He grabbed her and pushed her into the room.

"That is it," She rounded on the elf and fumingly pointed a finger at him. "I have had it with you. Just because you caught me red-handed doesn't give you the right to shove me around."

"Hawke," he said completely ignoring her, and instead addressing the person behind. "I caught this woman breaking into the vault."

Christina turned around to look at Hawke. Sitting at a large desk was a man with black hair and a full beard. He had golden eyes and was wearing a gray tailor-made suit with a red tie. He was watching her, through narrowed eyes.

"You were breaking into the vault?" He asked.

"Broke in actually," She said smugly. "You might want to upgrade your locks. Although, there isn't a lock I can't pick, so your efforts will be futile."

"Hmm," Hawke leaned onto the desk, his hands folded under his chin. "Fenris," He addressed the elf.

"Yes," He answered.

"Why bring her to me?"

"I thought you might want to decide what to do with her."

"I see," Hawke studied her, he eyes roving over her. "What is your name, woman?"

"Emalia," she replied.

His eyes narrowed, "Your real name?"

"Well you certainly are sharp," She smiled. "My real name is Christina."

"And tell me Christina," He stood up and walked around his desk towards her. "Exactly, why is it you were breaking into my vault?"

"Honestly," She sighed. "I was hoping this would be my last heist. I was going to take enough money from your vault, so that I could go somewhere and start a new life for myself."

"Ah, so you're a thief?"

"I prefer the term professional intruder, but that will do."

"You know Christina; I could and should turn you over to the authorities. In fact, I'm close friends with the Captain of the Guard and she will certainly make sure you're locked away for a long time."

"If you're expecting me to gravel and beg for mercy, I should tell I'm not one to do that. It's quite degrading and personally I'd rather keep some of my dignity."

"Oh you I like," He grinned. "No I don't expect you to start begging and I don't plan on calling the guards either."

"What," she cocked her head inquisitively.

"I am a man who believes in second chances," Hawke leaned his hip against the desk. "Instead of having you arrested, I think you should have a chance to redeem yourself."

"And how exactly will I be redeeming myself?"

"You will work for me of course, here in the club."

"What," Fenris exclaimed. "Hawke you can't be serious. This woman just tried to rob you, what's to say she won't do it again?"

"Precisely why she'll be your responsibility," Hawke nodded.

"No, absolutely not," He clenched his hands.

"Wait," Christina spoke up. "So, let me get this straight. You want me to work for you, but what just what will I be doing?"

"Considering your looks, you'd make a great barkeep and Anders will enjoy the company." Hawke smiled at her.

"Alright, but will I be getting paid for this?"

"Your pay is the fact that I don't hand you over to the officials, but you are free to keep any tips you might make."

"Fair enough," She pitched her head towards Fenris. "And what do you mean by I'll be his responsibility?"

"You see Fenris here, is the head of security here and considering this situation, I believe it is best that he keep an eye on you. So, until I say otherwise, you will be living with him."

"I do not agree to this, Hawke." Fenris said through clenched teeth.

"Oh, come on Fenris. There's plenty of room in that mansion of yours."

"And what of your estate," Fenris asked.

"I can't, Isabella wouldn't allow it and besides, I'm putting her in your custody."

"Then perhaps, we can just give her to Aveline and be done with her."

"Oh come now, Fenris." Christina smiled at him. "I promise I won't be any trouble and who knows we might end up being good friends." Fenris responded by starring daggers at her.

"I agree," Hawke laughed deeply and placed a hand on Christina's shoulder. "I can feel you two are going to get along just fine." He walked around his desk and set back down in the big leather chair. "Christina, I assume you don't have much money on you?"

"I may have a few silvers left."

"No doubt stole them." Fenris murmured.

"Well," Hawke reached into the desk drawer and tossed a bag onto desk. "Take this coin and buy yourself a whole new wardrobe, preferably clothes that are suitable for work. Fenris, you will be sure to accompany her."

"And what qualifies as suitable," she asked reaching for coins, only to have them snatched by Fenris, she glanced at him before returning her gaze to Hawke.

"That dress you're wearing now is fine, so get more like it."

"Can do," She smiled.

"Alright, you may leave now." Hawke gestured to the door, and then reached for the phone. "Oh and you might want to buy some bed sheets and a pillow."

Christina walked out the room with Fenris following, closing the door behind him. He continued on through the room and into the stairway, not bothering to hold the door open for her, but she managed to catch the door before it smacked her nose.

"Well," She frowned at him, "seems we'll be spending a lot of time with each other."

Fenris turned to her, his whole posture seething with rage. "Just give me one reason, one reason to turn you into the city guard. If you even begin to step out of line, I will drag you to the barracks myself; do I make myself clear, Christina?"

"Yes sir," she stood at attention, clicking her heels together. "I promise to be well-behaved and do everything you tell me, sir." She smiled at him.

His eyes narrowed, "Let's go," He said turning to move down the stairs.

"Yes sir," She saluted him and followed. "May I ask, where are we going?"

"Hawke said to take you shopping so that's what we're doing."

"Now, but the clubs still open?"

"The boutique I will be taking you to, want be open later. We will go now."

"Look, I like shopping as much as the next girl, but we can always go tomorrow."

"We will go now," He sternly stated.

"Alright, sorry I even suggested anything."

Fenris led her to a door that led to an alley on the outside of the club. Weaving their way through the still crowded streets, they entered a large boutique and she spent the next two hours going through outfit upon outfit, with Fenris growing more irritated as time passed. When they left, she had four new t-shirts, two pairs of pants, a couple pair of converses, two dresses and heels to match each one; along with bed linens and a pillow.

They returned to the club with the bags in tow. Fenris told her to leave the bags in the employee lounge and he told to go and get acquainted with the club and its staff. She had spent the rest of night doing just that; she had explained the situation to Anders, who had forgiven her and even stated he liked her real name better, which they had laughed over. She met Merrill, the clubs cook, who she found to be very sweet and a bit naïve. She had learned about Varric, who was Hawke's business partner but who was currently away on business. She found out that the woman, Isabella, was Hawke's wife and also that nobody ever seemed to refer to Hawke by his first name which was Garrett.

It was well after midnight when the club had finally closed; Fenris had cleared the building and made sure that the wealthiest clients had rides home, while the less fortunate were thrown out into the street. Christina was with Anders, helping him clean up the bar.

"Anders, where does this go?" She held up a bottle of whiskey.

"That goes under the counter there," He answered while cleaning out a mug.

She placed the bottle under the counter and stood up, "I think I'll really enjoy working here." She said glancing around at the club as the employees busied themselves with cleaning up.

"I think I'll enjoy having you work here."

She laughed, "I bet."

"Christina," Fenris said walking up to her, "go change we're leaving."

She noticed that Fenris had changed out of the suit in favor of a black leather jacket, white vee-necked t-shirt, black jeans and white converses.

"Alright," Christina rounded the bar heading for the lounge. When she returned, she was wearing a red shirt, blue jeans, and black converses with her hair pulled back into a high ponytail. She was carrying her few bags with her as she made her way to Fenris, who was waiting by the door. The club was now empty except for them two and Anders who was making his way to the exit.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Christina?" Anders said smiling as she neared him.

"Yep," She smiled at him as he walked out. Fenris watched him out of narrowed eyes.

"Outside," he growled at her. She did as she was told and he soon followed her, locking the door behind him. Fenris led her trough the parking lot of the club and came to stop beside a sleek red motorcycle.

"Is this yours?" she asked.

"Yes," he said matter-of-factly.

"Nice, I owned one myself once, but I lost it during a bet."

He ignored her and climbed on, "Come," he said.

She obeyed and climbed on behind him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. He started the machine, drove out of the parking lot and onto the main street of the Red Light District.

Fenris drove fast but safely. She found herself leaning into him and was soon enjoying the ride. She felt no worries, no doubts; the only thing that mattered was the road, the rumble of the engine and the wind blowing through her hair. Fenris and she made a good team: She leaned with him into every curve, trusting his ability to bring them safely to his home.

They exited off the highway, headed for the high part of town. Fenris turned down a side road that lead to an old, abandoned manor. Ivy covered the walls and the stairs leading up to the door of building. Several windows had been destroyed and the walls were damaged and broken in places, but it still stood strong.

"Whoa," she gasped. "Don't tell me you live here?"

"Yes," he answered as he stopped the motorbike in front of the estate. "Do you have a problem with it?"

"No," She climbed off the bike. "It's just I wasn't expecting it to be so big and you live here all by yourself?"

"Yes," He replied as he approached the main entrance. The door opened with a groan when he pushed it.

The place was massive, with corridors and rooms galore. Dilapidated possessions reminded of a time when the mansion was once filled with life. Unfortunately it was now practically uninhabitable. Weather and time had taken their toll on the stone floors, leaving them cracked and chipped, the walls mirroring them.

Fenris stayed in a room on the first floor. It contained a bed, a desk and a bench placed in front of a fireplace. The bed was unmade, the desk was littered with papers and books, and she noticed that in the corner of the room set tiny TV monitors, although she couldn't make out what was on them.

"What are those for?" She asked pointing into the room at the TVs.

"Those are for the cameras."

"Cameras?" she looked at him. "You have cameras in the house? What for, are you afraid someone's going to break in? Even if they did, what would they take? It seems everything in this house has is either rotten or destroyed." She gestured around to the broken tables and molded chairs.

"They're for protection, so that nobody will enter or leave without me knowing." He looked at her firmly. "Your room is the one next to mine; we leave tomorrow at three o'clock in the afternoon. I expect you to be dressed and ready to go by that time. Until then, I expect you to behave and don't even think about leaving."

"Wouldn't dream of it," She smiled. "By the way, do you have one of those cameras in my room?"

He didn't answer her, instead just walked into his room and shut the door.

"Hmm," She stared at the door. "Good night to you, too," she called out, before turning on her heel and walking into her room.

The windows were dirty but still intact. As she looked at the bed, she was happy Hawke had suggested those bed sheets; the mattress was dusty and dirty but otherwise, useable. There was a clouded full-body mirror that stood in the corner of the room and an aged dressing table with a fireplace located across from the windows.

Christina sat her bags down in the room and began to clean the room. She dragged the mattress out of the room and beat as much of the dust out of it as she could, before putting it back in the bed frame. After making the bed up in the new sheets and pillow, she went downstairs.

She found the kitchen and filled a small bucket up with water and soap. She returned to her room and one hour later, she cleaned the floor, cleared out the cobwebs and washed the dust off the dresser, mirror and the window. Glancing out it she saw she had a view of a courtyard, it was over-grown with weeds and untrimmed bushes with a large tree in the center.

As she began to change out of her clothes, she glanced around the room. Wondering, if he did have a camera hidden the room somewhere, but she shrugged it off and changed into a large-oversized t-shirt. She had remembered Fenris asking her why she was buying this shirt at the boutique.

"Why are you buying this?" Fenris had asked holding up the bulky green shirt.

"I'm going to sleep in it," she called out, while she had browsed through the dresses.

"You're going to sleep in it?"

"Well, I would prefer to sleep naked but," she had looked at him over a red dress, she was observing. "Considering we'll be living together, I think this better."

Fenris had grunted and folded the shirt and added to the pile of her other ones.

She looked at herself in the mirror and saw that it fell mid-thigh. Grabbing the toiletries she had bought, she made her way through the house in search of the bathroom. She found it downstairs located near the kitchen, a big area with several washbasins and showers. Stripping out of her clothes, and setting them on a nearby crate, she stepped into the shower. Her muscles relaxing as the warm water sprayed onto her skin.

Fifteen minutes later found her dressed and back in her room. She had lit a small fire using some debris, that she figured once was a table. Sitting in front of the hearth, she was brushing her hair, letting the heat dry it.

She allowed her mind to wonder as she stared into the fire. She thought of her future and she thought of Fenris. She wondered what he was doing right now. He was certainly attractive, if a bit broody, and she wondered how he would look if he was to smile. He seemed to think of her as a burden but she was thankful of this chance Hawke had given.

That's right; she had forgotten to thank him. She made a note to thank Hawke the next time she saw him. She thought maybe she should thank Fenris for allowing her to stay, and then she remembered how mad he had been about it, and decided against it.

With her hair dried, Christina crawled into bed and watched the flames dance and listened as the rubble popped from the heat of the fire. As she drifted off to sleep, she considered what events awaited her tomorrow.

_*POV CHANGE*_

Fenris didn't know what to make of his present situation. The day had started off like any other, he had wakened up, trained then went to work. He had opened up the club with Hawke and gone over the normal security procedures, while all employees had arrived on time and the club had opened up on schedule.

The business was filled to max capacity and everything seemed to be in order. He was going upstairs to inform Hawke, when he suddenly felt something was amiss. All his sense came to full alert, his elven ears listened into the dead silence of the stairway and that's when he heard it, a small scraping noise. He raced quickly yet stealthy down the stairs towards the sound.

When he arrived at the bottom of the staircase, he had found a woman in a blue-black satin dress, picking the lock of the vault. When the door opened he found himself momentarily impressed, but he did his duty as head of security and stopped her just a she was walking into the room.

As he swung her around and pressed her into the wall, he stunned by her beauty. She had light olive skin, an oval-shaped face, high cheek bones, long brown hair, hazel eyes, and Fenris found her pouty red lips incredibly enticing.

He had shaken off his distraction and demanded she explain herself. The woman seemed unfazed at the fact that she had been caught in the act and had smiled at him, this only annoyed him further.

Fenris had taken the girl up too see Hawke, dragging her the whole way. He had expected that she would be given to Aveline to handle, but he should have known better. If it had been up to him, he would've took her to the gallows and thrown away the key, but it was Hawke's decision and he had suggested that she redeem herself by working in the club.

It was because of Hawke, that the woman was now leaving with him is his house; and she was staying in the very next room. Christina was her name he had found out, and he didn't trust her as far as he could throw her.

She was trouble but he found himself curious about her. What could have caused her to turn to a life of crime? He would ask her, but he preferred to pretend that she didn't exist, that was pretty hard when she had her breast pressed up against him as he drove them to his estate.

He had noticed that her body was quite appealing. She had nice tits-big but not too big. Her body showed a petite waist with wide hips. It certainly wasn't today's fashionable figure, but it was striking none the less. It irritated him to see that he found himself, attracted to her.

He glanced at the now blank television. It was the monitor to the camera he had in her room. He had turned it off, as not to pry into her business, and so that he wouldn't think about her more than he already was.

Fenris ran a hand though his hair, as he heard noise come from her room. He was organizing the papers on his desk, when movement on one of the monitors caught his eye. It was Christina dressed in an over-sized shirt and she seemed to be looking for something. Her search came to a halt, as she came to the bathroom.

He watched as she stepped up to one of the many showers, he knew he should turn off the TV but he continued to stare at her. She lifted the shirt above her head, his eyes honed in on her body which was now completely bare. Fenris felt his body reacting to her and he quickly averted his gaze back to the papers in front of him.

All the while he had stared at the documents, every so often lifting his eyes back to the monitor, claiming it was to make sure she didn't step out of line and not to gawk at her figure.

When he had glanced at the monitor to see that she had left the bathroom and saw that she was making her way back to her room, he decided that now would be the time for him to take his bath. He grabbed the bar of soap he kept on his nightstand and made his way to the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later he was back in his room with a towel wrapped around his narrow waist and running another one through his hair. He flipped on Christina's room monitor and saw that she sitting in front of a fire brushing her hair, after observing that she wasn't up to anything he flipped it back off.

He changed into a pair of black boxer-brief and loose white t-shirt. Sitting in front of the fire, he tossed a few weathered books into the flames. Afterwards he grabbed a book and began to read, although his mind barely registered any of the word his focus still centered on the woman in the next room.

What was it about this woman that seemed to attract him? She was good-looking but he'd seen prettier woman before. He admired the fact that when she smiled it reached her eyes and that even when he was glaring daggers at her; she was smiling brightly at him.

Fenris had left his hair to air dry and after taking his shirt off, crawled into bed. Stacking his hands beneath his head, he stared up at the ceiling and thought about other aspects of his life, namely Denarius.

It had been almost ten years since he had left the Imperium. Ten years, since he had killed those fog warriors and fled the clutches of his former master. He had arrived in Kirkwall over six years ago and met Hawke, who had helped him by helping him claim this mansion and giving him a position in his club. He owed Hawke his freedom but until Denarius was dead, Fenris could never feel truly free.

Now that Christina was living here, she would be in danger too. It was this small fact that made him want to protect her, and it aggravated him. Why should he want to protect a woman who was now an inconvenience in his life? A woman who he had only known for less than twelve hours?

With these thoughts goading around in his brain, he drifted off to sleep.

**Please Review :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi everyone, I'd like to thank all of you who reading this story and once again I encourage you all to review, they really help me out.**

*****Disclaimer*** I don't own anything related to Dragon Age. I only own any OCs as well as the plot.**

**Warning: This chapter contains some M related content.**

Christina sighed deeply before opening her eyes. Glanced towards the window and judged that from the sun filtering into the room, that it was almost noon. She lay in bed for a few more minutes before kicking off the sheets and throwing her legs over the side of the bed. Yawning, she stretched and made her way to her dresser.

When she exited the room, her hair was down and she was wearing a sky blue tank top and jeans. She was barefoot.

She made her way downstairs into the kitchen where Fenris was sitting at a table, munching on a slice of toast. He was barefoot wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a white shirt. The room was filled with the smell of fresh coffee.

"Good morning," She greeted him with a smile, as she entered the room.

Fenris acknowledged her with a curt grunt and said, "Coffee's made." He drank from his own mug.

"Aren't you just the sweetest," She replied as she walked over to the coffee brewer and poured a cup. She poured in some milk and sugar, before she sipped it. Bracing her hips onto the counter, she turned towards Fenris. "So, I was wondering, do you think we can go back to my hotel room?"

"Your hotel room," He asked looking over the rim of his cup.

"Well, I was staying in a hotel before I went to the club, yesterday. I still have stuff in the room and I was wondering if we couldn't go get it."

"Is this stuff necessary?"

"Yes, I would say so. I would go by myself, but I figured you wouldn't want to let me out of your sight."

"What exactly are these things you require?"

"Just a few necessities, like clothes, make-up, little items like that."

"You got new clothes yesterday."

"Yeah, but those are my things I can't just not get them." Christina batted her eyelashes and pouted her lips. "Please Fenris," she pleaded.

. "Alright," He turned to walk out the room, "but we leave now."

"Okay," She chugged the last bit of her coffee. "Just let me go put on some shoes." She said exiting the kitchen and running upstairs to her room.

With her shoes on, Christina walked outside to the front of the manor and saw Fenris had already started the motorcycle and was straddling the machine between his thighs. She walked down the front steps and climbed on behind him, after bracing herself and wrapping her arms around his waist, they set off towards Lowtown.

Fenris maneuvered them through the light traffic of Hightown. Christina's hair whipped behind her, as he decelerated the motorcycle and turned off down a spacious street. He parked the bike in front of the small inn, as she climbed off and headed towards the door.

"You can wait here, I won't be long." She called out.

"No," Fenris called back, he turned off the bike and climbed off stuffing the keys in his pocket. "I will come with you." He said as he followed her inside.

Christina led them through the establishment, up the stairs and after pulling a key out of her pocket unlocked a wooden door and opened it. She walked into the room with Fenris close behind.

Grabbing a yellow backpack from a corner, she began to stuff the clothes strewed throughout the tiny room. While he began to examine an assortment of bottles, that sat on a small nightstand.

"I would be careful with those," She glanced at him. "Some of those bottles contain very potent toxins; one drop is enough to kill a full-grown man."

"Why do have poison," He glowered at her.

"You never know when it might come in handy." Fenris continued to stare at her obviously waiting for a more sufficient answer. She sighed before continuing, "My father taught me how to make them when I was a child, I had a real knack for it and I've kept up the practice ever since."

"Your father," he looked her questioningly. "Taught you how to make poison?"

"I grew up in the poorest part of Lowtown, Fenris. I didn't have the most glorious childhood, my mother died during labor and my father raised me alone. He was once a mercenary for The Red Iron but he left the guild in order to be there for me." She stuffed a pair of white converses into the pack. "Father got rather busy sometimes but I would just go and play with the other kids until he came home. It was at those times, he would teach me how to pick locks or make poisons and how to handle a dagger." She showed him two silver daggers that were wrapped in a red cloth.

"So, you are dangerous," he hissed.

"I haven't ever killed anyone, yet, and it's not like I would." She quickly added. "I just know about a hundred different ways I could, but you don't have to worry, Fenris."

"Why is that?"

"Because, despite you being broody and arrogant, I sort of like you," She gave him a disarming smile.

"Then did you father teach you to steal as well?" he peered at her.

"Yes, the money he had saved from his time as a mercenary didn't last long and Meeran wouldn't let him back into the guild. So, father instead joined a band of thieves, called The Black Polecats. When I was ten he began to take me with to Hightown, where he taught me how to pick pocket the nobles. I was thirteen when he took me on my first heist and I joined the polecats myself when I was sixteen."

"Are you still part of this group of criminals?"

"I retired last week. Yesterday was my last heist as I have told you."

"What about your father?"

"He died of the wasting a few years back." She glanced down at the floor, sadly.

Fenris nodded, "I'm sorry for your lost."

"It's alright; that was years ago." She moved around the room collecting the rest of her things. "He died a happy man at least, I made sure of that. I took care of him for those last few months before he passed.

"That last day before he died he made a miraculous recovery, and it seemed he was going to be alright. That night we stayed up talking and he claimed he was proud of me, that I had become such a professional," she laughed dejectedly, "He left out the criminal part.

"I tucked him into bed, and the next morning I woke up to find he had died during the night."

"It sounds like you cared for him," he said reluctantly.

"Of course he was my father; he gave up his whole career just to raise me."

"Yes, but he led you to a life of crime."

"That wasn't his fault," She glanced sternly at him. "It was my choice, I begged him to teach me. He was reluctant at first, but eventually he gave in and when I showed a talent for it, he encouraged me to join the polecats."

"If he wanted you to join that guild of thieves, then why did you leave?"

"I was tired of it. The trill wasn't there anymore;" She shrugged, "that life lost its luster after he died. Afterwards, I realized I wanted a better life for myself."

"And you decided to start off this new life of yours; you should do the only thing you knew how, steal."

"You make it sound so bad, but yes I did. I had heard about The Crimson Hawke, when I was with the polecats, but I never went. When I retired, I remembered the club, and decided to rob it."

"Why the Hawke," he asked.

"Circumstance, it was all about the fact that many people went there and that most clubs aren't well lit. I also was able to sneak into the seneschal's office and steal the blueprints.

"I figured that I could get in and out without anyone noticing and that by the time they found out that money was missing, I would be long gone on a sunny beach in Antiva." She smiled. "To bad I didn't account for you."

"You didn't think there would be any guards?"

"Of course I did, I even had a small sleep bomb just in case."

"Sleep bomb," he raised an eyebrow.

"It's a small flask that when broken, puts anyone who breaths in the fumes to sleep for a couple hours or so."

"Why didn't you use it?"

"Honestly, I forgot I had it."

"You forgot?"

"I got distracted by my very attractive captor," Christina grinned flirtatiously at him. "Besides, I kinda like the thought of you manhandling me. I was hoping for a strip search." She winked.

Fenris was blushing as he rolled his eyes, "Can you hurry it up I would like to leave now."

"Yes, sir," she giggled.

Forty-five minutes later, they were back home and walking up the stairs towards their rooms together.

"We have to leave soon." Fenris said nonchalantly glancing at his wristwatch.

"I'll be ready," She replied as she walked into her room.

"Meet me downstairs by the main door," He called out to her.

"Can do," she shut the door behind her and began to unpack.

Why did she tell Fenris about her father? She hadn't thought about her father in years, let alone talk about him. It still hurt, the wound her father's death had inflicted on her was still fresh and that conversation had only poured salt into it.

It had taken all her willpower not to cry and to keep on smiling. She had even flirted with Fenris to try to cover up the fact that she was still hurting inside. Now, alone in her room, she tried to keep busy to ignore her eyes, that burned from the unshed tears.

Going through her bag, she found the blood-red cloth that contained her daggers. She took one of them out and held it up to inspect it.

The silver blade shone in the sunlight. Running her fingers over the swirling lines carved into the black dragonbone hilt, she recalled the day she had received the daggers.

Christina tightened her grip on the hilt of blade, as thoughts of her father's smiling face, came to mind. As she wrapped it back into the cloth, a tear trickled down her cheek.

She whisked it away and continued to unpack.

_*Later That Night*_

"Anders," Christina called out to him. "We need more ice."

"I'll go get it," He said, as he rushed off to the kitchen.

"Excuse me," A young woman said to her. "Can I get a pint of ale?"

"Of course," She turned around. Quickly, she made the drink and passed it to the girl with a smile. "Here you go."

"Thanks," she said handed her a silver, before becoming one with the crowd again.

The Crimson Hawke was in full swing that night. The people filled the room from wall to wall. Music boomed from the speakers and lights flashed, whether from the club or from the camera of a group of friends taking pictures.

Christina and Anders had been working the bar and it seemed that everyone wanted a drink that night. The orders kept coming and the tip jar was bursting. Not that she minded, the more tips the more money she would get.

Every so often, she would see Fenris pop up by the bar. Checking on the club or her, she wasn't sure. He would come up and glare menacingly at her, never uttering a word, just silently warning her to not screw up. Then Anders or she would say something and then he would wonder off angrily mumbling to himself.

She could practically feel him watching her now. Although he was nowhere in sight as far she could tell.

"Hello," A man said walking up to the bar, an amorous smile on his face.

"Hello good sir," She smiled. "Can I get you something?"

"Well you could start by telling me your name?"

"It's Christina."

"Well, Christina, my names Brian. You must have just started working here, because I definitely haven't seen you here before."

"I did actually, just yesterday."

"Well, I'll be sure to come here more often, if it means I get to see you." He wiggled his eyebrow.

"Thank you, but you really shouldn't say that. The Hawke has many other things to offer, besides me."

"I don't see anything but a beautiful brunette in a fiery red dress."

She glanced down at her dress it was a simple short cherry dress with a big bow that tied in the back. "Really, I appreciate the compliments but if you're not going to order something…"

"Sure, I'll take a beer."

"What kind?"

"Antivan Amber."

"Can do," As Christina turned to get it; the man reached behind the bar and groped her bottom. She instantaneously twisted around and raised a hand to smack him, when Anders appeared and grabbed her hand stopping its dissent towards the man's face.

"That kind of behavior is not tolerated in this bar, Serah. You best refrain from doing that unless you want to be thrown out of here." Anders grinned at the man but his amber eyes gleamed ominously.

"I have every right to do whatever I wish," the man glared at him.

"Not in here you don't and if you touch any of the employees here like that again, I'm sure the security would just love to toss you out on your face."

"Whatever," he snorted. "Just give me my beer and I'll go."

"Certainly," Anders reached behind him with his free hand grabbed an Antivan Amber and handed it to the man. "It's on the house." The man scoffed at Anders then walked away.

"Christina," he said returning his attention to her.

"What," she glanced up at him.

"I leave for not even five minutes and you already get into trouble?"

"It wasn't trouble, I was handling the situation."

"You," He lightly shook her hand, "were about to hit a customer." He dropped it and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I have every right too, he grabbed my ass, he deserved a good slap. He can't treat me like that."

"That maybe, but you hit a customer, then Hawke gets a lawsuit and where would that put you?"

"In the Gallows," she sighed. "I know, I know, but I wasn't thinking. All I thought about was defending my honor. I am not a piece of meat," She called out towards where the man had retreated.

Anders snickered, "I agree, but you should learn to use your words instead of your fist."

Christina pouted, "You sound my father."

"Maker, the last thing I want you to think of with me is your father." He gasped playfully. "I want to woo you with my charm; I wish to have to swooning over me. How can I do that when I remind you of your father?"

She laughed, "Sorry Anders, but it seems I want be swooning over you just yet."

"Just yet," He cheered. "This means I still have a chance."

"It's always good to be optimistic."

"Hey," a waiter called out. "If you two are done, I need two Rivain Daiquiris."

"We'll get those for you right now, Feynriel." Anders said to the young man, as he and Christina got back to work.

It was a little almost one o'clock in the morning when the last customer was escorted out of the club. Christina was in the back helping Merrill with cleaning up the kitchen, also because she had grown fond of the elven woman.

"Oh, Christina that dress you wore tonight looks so beautiful." Merrill said.

"Thank you, Merrill. If you want too you can borrow it."

"Oh no, I wouldn't look good in a dress and besides where would I wear it? It's not like I get out much, I usually stay at home. I tend to get lost otherwise. I've lived in Kirkwall for three years and I still can't find my way home without help."

"Nonsense," Christina said placing a pot on a shelf. "You would look gorgeous in a dress. If you want, this Monday we can go and see a movie or something. We'll buy you a pretty dress too."

"Why on Monday?" she asked.

"The club's closed on Monday, Merrill." She smiled at the elf.

"Oh, yes of course I'd forgotten," She nodded. "But what of Fenris, want he be mad?"

"Mad," she said questioningly. "What is there to be mad about? I'm going to be spending the day with you, it shouldn't matter to him."

"But you are his responsibility aren't you?"

"Well, yeah." She pondered for a few seconds. "Perhaps I better run this by him."

"I think that would be best. I've seen Fenris angry before, he is quite scary."

"He doesn't scare me, in fact I find him rather cute when he gets all fired up."

"You think he's cute," The elf's already rather large eyes, widened.

"Yep, he's like a porcupine. Good to look at but it's best if you don't touch."

Merrill giggled, "I agree, he is always very grumpy looking too."

"Tell me about it, although to be honest I think it's an act. I bet under all broody attitude is a sweet, caring man begging to come out."

"I doubt it, he's probably beat that man to death by now."

"Most likely," Christina was walking to the sink, when suddenly she slipped in a puddle of water. "Ouch," she exclaimed as she landed on her bottom.

"Oh," Merrill rushed over to her. "Christina, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so." She said as she tried to stand.

"Here let me help you," Merrill lifted her and as she stood up, her right ankle popped.

"Fuck, my ankle. This is what I get for wearing high heels in the kitchen."

"Oh no, Christina this is entirely my fault."

"Don't blame yourself, it's not like you left that puddle there so that I could slip on it."

"You have to sit down," Merrill said and they walked towards the front of the club, Christina leaning on Merrill for support. As they entered the bar area, Anders looked up at them.

"Christina," He cried out, rushing over to her as she sat on a bar stool. "What happened?"

"I slipped and hurt my ankle." She grimaced.

"It's my fault, I forgot to put up the wet floor sign and I shouldn't have mopped the floor with Christina in there." Merrill rambled on frantically.

"Merrill," Anders placed a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down, it's not like you meant for this to happen."

"I know, but if I hadn't been so careless…"

"Don't worry, it's not like she's dead or dying, it's probably just a sprain. I'll take care of it." He kneeled in front of Christina, carefully took her black heel off and inspected her ankle.

"Anders, you better be looking at just my ankle." She said.

"Oh my sweet Christina, I would love to ogle you but this is not the time for such things." He grinned still looking at her ankle. "Hmm, it doesn't appear to be broken, but it could use some healing none the less." His hand began to glow an eerie green

"Andraste's flaming ass," Christina shouted, reflexively pulling her foot from Anders's grasp. "You're a mage?"

"Yes," Anders peered up at her. "I thought you knew."

"No, I had no bloody idea, up until now."

"Well, most of the people that work here are mages, Christina."

"What?"

"It's true; I'm a mage as well." Merrill spoke.

"By the maker, why did nobody tell me?" she angrily pouted crossing her arms under her breast.

"I just assumed you already knew, I thought Hawke or Fenris might have informed you." Anders said.

"Nobody told me anything," she mumbled.

"Does it bother you?"

"No, I don't have a problem with mages, I just wasn't expecting it."

"Well," Anders grabbed her ankle and mended it. "Hawke is a mage too, but he's also a very important man in this city. He made The Crimson Hawke in order to help out his fellow apostates. There are even some former templars who work as security here. He gives us all jobs, as well protection. This way we stay out of the circle."

"Templars and mages," Christina leaned onto the bar resting her forehead onto her hand, "working together, I never thought I'd see the day."

"You can say that again; I didn't believe it either until I met Hawke." Anders smiled up at her.

"Is there anything else you'd like to enlighten me on?"

"Well, I could tell you how beautiful I think you are but I think you already." Anders slipped her shoe back on and ran his hand up her leg, to caress her thigh.

She sucked in a sharp breath, "Anders, what are you doing?"

"Nothing," he replied coolly as he stood to full attention, his hand still resting on her. He smiled affectionately at her, "Christina, would you like to go to my house?"

"Your house," she said.

"Yes, my house. We can go there watch a movie and I can introduce you to Ser Pounce-a-lot."

"Ser Pounce-a-lot?"

"My cat."

"You have a cat named Ser Pounce-a-lot?" She laughed. "That is so cute."

"I'm glad you like it, I have a feeling he'll like you." Anders used his other hand, to rub the pad of his thumb under her bottom lip. "I know I do," whispered softly.

"Anders, are you trying to seduce me?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Is it working?" he leaned forward resting his forehead against hers.

"I think," Merrill spoke up. "I'll just go and finish cleaning up." She said retreating into the kitchen.

"So, what do you say, Christina?" He brushed his lips tenderly against hers.

"Anders, I…" Christina spoke huskily.

"What are you doing, mage?" Fenris demanded angrily as he approached the two. He fixed a murderously icy stare at him.

Anders gradually stepped away from her, his head snapping in the direction of the elf. "I was simply helping out Christina. She injured herself and I healed her."

"Since when has 'that' been a form of healing?" he growled.

"I don't know," he smiled smugly. "I've always heard that sex is great healing for the body and the soul."

"If you touch her again, mage," He stepped, his voice becoming as frosty as his stare, "I will rip your heart out and show it to you."

"Just try it, dog." Anders sneered. Gold eyes challenged green.

Christina stood up stepping between the two fuming males, "Timeout you two. Let's just calm down before someone, ends up getting hurt."

"You," Fenris glared at her. "Go get ready to leave, now."

"That's right, Fenris. Order her around like a slave; I'm sure your former master would be proud to see that you've taken after him." Anders said haughtily.

Fenris's eyes narrowed. "You have no idea, what it's like to be a slave!"

Christina's eyes widened as realization set in. "Fenris…"

"Do not make light of this," he added on a growl as he look at her. "Get ready. And you mage finish cleaning you station and leave, before I drag you out." He turned on his heal and walked away.

"I wasn't aware," she whispered to herself.

"Christina," Anders laid a hand affectionately on her shoulder, "don't let that dog control you. We can leave right now, if you wish."

"No," she weakly shook her head, "I think it's best if I just go with him." She smiled dismally up at him, "Anders, you're a really nice guy, but I…"

"Don't say anymore," he sighed. "I understand I'll just try this again, at a later date."

She nodded, "I'm going to go and get ready." She proceeded to walk away.

"Good night then," He called out to her.

"Good night," she called back as she walked into the employee lounge.

Ten minutes later she left the room wearing a black tank top, white skinny jeans and black converses with her yellow backpack on. The club area was empty, apart from Fenris who was leaning up against the bar. Her eyes were trained on the floor, as she came to stop in front of him.

"Fenris," she lifted her gaze up to his. "I'm sorry, if I had known."

"We are leaving," He strode over to the front door and she trailed after him.

They made their way back in home in complete silence, but Christina's mind raced with a thousand questions. Why didn't he tell her? She could understand it was a taboo thing to discuss, but didn't she deserve to know? And what else didn't she know? She was so absorbed in her thoughts, that as they came to a halt in front of the house and Fenris cut the engine, she didn't notice.

"We're here," Christina didn't hear him. "You can let go now," he said referring to her hold on his waist.

"Sorry," She quickly snatched her arms away and got off the bike.

They walked into the manor side by side. It wasn't until they were walking up the stairs that she spoke again.

"Fenris," she said, he ignored her and opened the door to his room. "Fenris," She repeated as she grabbed his arm; he instantly swung around and pushed her into the wall with an arm pressed against her chest.

"Do not touch me," he said through clenched teeth.

"Sorry," she raised her hands in a defensive manner. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"There is nothing to talk about." He released his hold on her but he stayed close.

"Maybe not, but I think I have a right to know."

"What?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you, what?"

"Well, a lot of things. Like, the fact that I would be working with apostates and templars," she looked at him affectionately as she added, "that you're a former slave."

"I told you not to make light of it."

"Fenris, I'm sorry."

"I don't want your pity," he said, scowling darkly.

"Fine, but you still should have told me." She responded intensely.

"What gives you the right to know?"

"We live together."

"You are a nuisance that I am being held accountable for. The fact that you live here with me is an inconvenience."

"Look it's not like I didn't already know, I just didn't fully realize it until it was said."

"You knew," he looked at her peculiarly.

"I didn't know for certain but," She gestured towards his face, "your markings their made of lyrium, aren't they?" He nodded. "I heard of a ritual that magisters in the Imperium did that involved carving lyrium into the skin of a living person.

"When I first met you, your markings seemed familiar to me; it wasn't until just a little while ago that I connected the two."

"My former master," he stepped away from her, "Denarius, he was the one who performed the ritual. The pain was so agonizing that it wiped my memory clean."

"You mean you don't remember anything, no childhood memories or your family?"

"Any reminiscences of my life before the ritual were lost." Christina frowned as he continued. "Ten years ago I escaped my life as a slave and it was six years ago that I met Hawke. He helped me kill some slavers that had come to capture me, as well as help me to obtain this house. In exchange I help him with the nightclub.

"Now, are you satisfied? I've told everything that is necessary." He crossed his arms.

"So, this Denarius, is he still looking for you?"

"Yes, as far as I know. He is not one to let his property go so easily."

"You are not his property," she said firmly. "You're a person not an object."

"Precisely," he nodded. "Now, if there is nothing else, I would like to retire for the night?"

She nodded and he walked into his room, "Thank you, for telling me Fenris." She smiled at him through the door way, "I just want us to be friends, and I want you to know you can tell me anything…good night."

"Good night," he glanced away from her and shut the door.

Christina stared at the closed door for a few seconds before walking in her own room and to prepare for bed.

_*POV Change*_

Fenris lay in his bed clothed only in his underwear. He was restless, nothing he did made him tired and it seemed that sleep was eluding him that night. It was her fault.

Ever since, Christina had smiled at him from his doorway, he'd had a hard-on. What kind of fool did that make him? He'd wanted to haul her into the room with him, strip her and ram himself into her. When she'd stared up at him with those big hazel eyes, it had taken all his will power not to grab her and kiss her.

The thought of kissing her reminded him of earlier that night.

The club had closed, and he had seen to it that a drunken Seneschal Bran made it into a taxi, when he had entered the building, only to find Anders, about to kiss her. It was jealousy that inflamed him, he'd wanted to rip the mages heart out, but refrained from doing so because he didn't want to frighten her.

Then she had learned of his past and this had enraged him more. When they had returned home, he had intended to go into his room, but she had stopped him. He'd pushed her against the wall and she hadn't flinched, even as he glared at her. She had looked at him with pleading eyes and he was overwhelmed with the need to kiss her pouty lips.

Afterwards, he'd sat drinking aggregio straight from the bottle, trying to drown his desire for her, and watching the fire. The flames reminded him of the same color of her eyes when she smiled. From there, his thoughts wandered to her mouth and its seductive shape. He wondered how she would taste and what sounds she would make if he were to kiss her. Would she let him kiss her?

Two bottles later, he was good and drunk. He'd switched on the monitor to her room and watched her.

She was sitting on her bed, in her large t-shirt reading a book, although what he couldn't tell. Fenris felt his cock twitch, as he caught sight of her of her small lace panties. His eyes roamed down her long toned legs, he longed to spread her legs, and kiss her smooth thighs until she begged him to take her. With a grunt he switched off the monitor and began to pace the room.

As became exhausted, he'd fallen on his bed and stared up at the ceiling.

Tonight, nothing helped to distract him from her. Christina conquered his mind and his body as it seemed, his erection still evident from the bulge it made on his boxer-briefs.

When yearning overcame him, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

He pulled his underwear down and his penis sprang free. As he wrapped his hand around it, he thought of her. He pictured her hand pumping up and down and her tongue licking the tip, as her pink lips enveloped around the shaft as she sucked him into her mouth. His pace quickened. When he imagined her moaning around his cock, Fenris groaned and jerked spasmodically as his semen jutted out, covering his hand.

He lay there for quite some time. Still breathing raggedly, he sat up, stuffing his subsiding erection back into his smalls. He scooted off the bed, walked over to a bucket of water and washed off his hand.

He was frustrated as he lay back down. Even now, he continued to think about her. And as he drifted off to sleep she followed him into his dreams. 

"**Hi everyone, I hope you enjoy this story as much I enjoy writing it. I plan on adding another story soon, so look forward to that. And I hope to see you all in the next chapter." **


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